


Dance with me

by MiaaMaay



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Devil May Cry 4 (Game), F/F, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Nero in deep thought, Outdoor Sex, Plot, Post DMC4, Smut, horny devil sides, idiots being idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 18:57:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14721749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiaaMaay/pseuds/MiaaMaay
Summary: There it was again – filling his lungs with every breath he took, almost palpable as the thick aroma washed over his tongue. Filling his senses and clouding his mind to the point where it became difficult to focus on his task, to keep his reflexes sharp.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So hey there! Seems like I'm not the only one still hooked with this game and its characters. I decided to get the special edition after having watched the intro fight of Dante and Nero and started playing again. For like 5 minutes. Until I decided to write some smut. Well, now that I got that out of my system, I hope you'll enjoy!

There it was again – filling his lungs with every breath he took, almost palpable as the thick aroma washed over his tongue. Filling his senses and clouding his mind to the point where it became difficult to focus on his task, to keep his reflexes sharp. He swore he could feel the air leave a gash where his blade cut through as Red Queen missed its target. He watched the figure clad in red leather as he propelled himself over the younger slayer in a gracious front roll, his body framed by the red leather coat, land behind him and using his momentum to swing his own gigantic sword in a powerful counter attack. Nero barely had time to block the attack as metal collided against metal, letting sparks fly into the pleasant late summer air.

It wasn‘t the first time of them sparring after a rather underwhelming mission, after Nero had left Fortuna for good and had tracked down the older slayer at the Devil May Cry for a new life. Not the first time that Nero got to test his abilities on the son of Sparda himself. In the beginning it felt like Dante was just humoring him like a wolf would his pup. After a while though, he also did seem to enjoy their little battles – some more playful like two friends roughhousing; others ending with broken bones and shredded clothes drenched in each other's blood.

But of lately, there was something else between them. Their constant taunting quieted down, their inner scoreboarding for style points forgotten. When they fought, it was with a newfound intensity. Once their eyes locked, they never wavered. The air around them grew thick like on a rainy summer day. It became hard to breath, but the ex–knight just couldn't seem to get enough. He didn‘t exactly know what was going on, nor did he care, really. Something in him was thrumming with each slash he threw in Dante‘s direction, with each hit he landed with his powerful devil bringer. Even when he himself got manhandled into the nearest tree, the nearest wall, the ground below him, leaving a small crater from the impact. Hell, in such moments he didn‘t even care if he lost to Dante, when he was pinned down with a strong body pressed against him, successfully immobilized from head to toe. No, something in him was _thrilled_ to be completely and utterly _dominated_ by the more experienced hunter.

And it fucking confused the hell out of him.

Each time the air would clear, when he could breathe and think straight again, he would think that he should be mortified about it. He knew he fought with all his might and strength, used every skill he’d learned from the older hunter himself or developed on his own over the years. 

So when he found himself back in the dirt again, with both his hands held together tightly on his back and a heavy body draped over him, he couldn‘t for the life of him phantom why he felt so ridiculously _pleased_ with the other hunter.

With a last effort he tried to free his arms out of the iron grip that throttled the blood flow from his human wrist which went numb in seconds, trying to throw off the unmoving body, but to no avail. He closed his eyes as he tried to get enough oxygen back into his exhausted lungs, going limp under the older slayer. He felt Dante’s hot breath puff against his sweat soaked skin on the side of his face, also having outpowered himself quite a bit.

They‘d fought longer than usual; the mission they accomplished beforehand only containing a few stray scarecrows near a small village just out of Capulet City, which hadn‘t done anything to drain even a bit of their seemingly endless energy. They‘d fought for hours on end. Surrounded by large patches of grassland, fields and only an occasional tree painting the landscape; the once bright blue sky now tinted a deep purpur.

„Get off me, old man…!“ Nero growled as seconds ticked by with him still pinned down. He felt a huff against his cheek and shortly after the dead weight lifted. He slowly heaved himself from the ground, feeling his left arm tingling as his blood could flow freely again. He should feel defeated, he should feel the loss he‘d just gone under. But instead he felt strangely satisfied, even more so as he looked over to the older slayer, casually holstering his broad sword back on his back. He knew that he wasn‘t the only one affected. Where there once would be a smart remark or even a small victory dance from the older man, there‘s now only the depth of his ice blue eyes, staring steadily back at him. 

–––

Back at the shop he felt way more like himself again. He yawned loudly as they entered what he now called his home. He even came to like the crappy interior. The old, worn out leather couch, where he spend some evenings watching crappy TV while sharing pizza with the old man. The retro jukebox near the bar, playing the same old songs. The smell of stale coffee, dust and something that was uniquely coming from Dante mixing with all the aromas which made him sigh contently. He’d never thought about what his future would’ve looked like if he was ever to leave Fortuna, but he definitely wouldn’t have pictured himself living with a grumpy old man who loved to sleep 'til noon if given the chance, taking on missions and saving people's lives while at it. But hell if he wanted to change anything about it. 

A calloused hand on the back of his neck brought him back from his thoughts, squeezing lightly and disappearing again before Nero could slap it away. The little touch sending pleasant shivers through his body.

“Stop daydreaming, kid. Gonna order us some pizza. You want the usual?” Dante asked as he made his way past the younger slayer, storing his weapons in its usual places.

“Yeah, sure. Shower’s mine, though, asshole.” He proclaimed as he made his way up the wooden stairs, each step giving out a loud creak as he climbed them.

“Don’t use up all the hot water!”, came a last retort from downstairs.

Flipping him the bird even though he was long gone from sight, he made a quick turn into his room and grabbed a clean pair of boxers and a shirt from his wardrobe. Storing Blue Rose and Red Queen safely into a corner in his room he continued his journey to the waiting shower.

He quickly stripped off his dirty clothes and hopped into the shower. He waited a few seconds for the water to turn from ice cold to hot and let out a pleased groan as he finally dove under the steady stream. He simply stood there for a while, letting the water wash over his head and down his bare back, head hung loosely between his shoulders. Letting the silence wash over him, the steady rush of water drowning out every other sound, his mind went completely blank. 

It didn‘t last long, though. Soon his mind went through recent events, more precisely the previous encounter he had with Dante. How they’d fought, how it had differed from when he first got here. They still had their playful banter; it wasn‘t as if the older man didn‘t try and get on his nerves any chance he got. But he could also see how their relationship had shifted over the last few months. The more experienced hunter went from a stranger who might‘ve answers to questions he tried to get an answer to his whole life, to not only his mentor but also best friend. The closest friend he probably ever had beside Kyrie. 

Back at The Order there wasn‘t time to form proper bonds with his other peers, nor did they want him to. He was used to it. Being the strange kid throughout the city forced you to develop a thicker skin. He got along with Credo well enough, but turned out that that was probably a hoax, too. Like the rest of The Order and his holiness. So even though he found Dante rather obnoxious and would deserve the title „kid“ more than him, he had to admit that he cherished what they had. What Dante was willing to give him. Not only his own room, but the opportunity to talk to him if something ever bothered him. That much the older slayer made clear in one of his more serious episodes he seemed to have at times. Not that Nero ever really talked about his private stuff that was going on in his mind, but it was nice to know that he could. 

He tried to make up for it with taking missions that Dante didn‘t want, earning what little money it brought him to pay for his stay. Hell, he even bought a fucking broom from _his own money_ to clean up a little when there was nothing more pressing to do. He also cleaned the kitchen at least once a week - granted, it was more for his sake than for the other man‘s. Even though pizza all day sounded pretty good in the beginning, he needed some variation in his diet and so he spend what little was left of his loan to buy actual groceries. He even made a meal for two once, regretting it terribly after he had to literally punch Dante through several walls to keep him from calling him his new „housewife“ ever again.

Still, he was pretty glad to have someone around him who not only accepted him for who he was, but understood exactly what he was going through. Someone who didn‘t shrink back in fear when his Devil Bringer was not hidden in its sling but actively encouraging him to just simply _be himself_. He still had to hide his right arm on occasion when they went on missions but it was a huge difference to hiding it and yourself for your whole life.

So when their behavior towards each other seemed to shift, Nero didn‘t know if he should welcome it or be more sceptic. He still couldn‘t figure out what changed, what caused their playful sparring to grow so… he didn’t even know what to call it. There was something in him that welcomed the shift, making him think that he‘d somehow developed a schizophrenic personality. His feelings and thoughts grew more and more apart the longer it went on without proper addressing the issue. But if he thought about it more.. it wasn‘t only their battlestyle that had changed…

Loud banging on the bathroom door had him jump in surprise and rip him out of his train of thoughts. „What?!“ he shouted in the direction of the door, pissed off that he couldn‘t even shower in peace for a few minutes.

„Don‘t ‚what‘ me, kid! Move your ass out of the shower, it‘s been almost half an hour! I wanna get rid of the blood and grime too, y‘know!“, came Dantes annoyed response, slightly muffled through the wooden barrier. 

„I‘ll be right out, geez!“

Grumbling to himself he quickly went through his routine just as he felt the water getting colder by the second. With a smirk he turned it off and quickly toweled himself off, throwing on his clean change. Bundling his dirty clothes into his arms, he fumbled a bit with the knob and swung open the door. The older man was still standing in front, having his hand raised and his mouth open for another complaint but was stopped as Nero brushed past him. The younger slayer was still scolded with a slap over his head. 

„You’ve better left me some hot water, kid!“, he heard the older man mutter as the door was thrown shut behind him.

Nero snickered as he could hear Dante's yelp and him being cursed shortly after. He went by his room on his way downstairs, throwing the bundle in his arms in the general direction of his hamper, not caring if it hit it or not. The welcoming smell of warm pizza found his nose as he descended the stairs and he made a beeline for the untouched carton still sitting beside an opened one with a missing slice. His schadenfreude doubled as he noticed the olives on the other man's pizza. Feeling sufficiently compensated for being so rudely interrupted, he put a slice of his own pizza in his mouth as he grabbed the whole carton and shuffled over to the worn-out leather couch. He landed with a huff and a pitiful crack from the couch. He held the warm slice with his left hand while he grabbed the remote with his right, leaning back while chewing loudly and switching through channels in search of something interesting. In the end he ended up with some kind of action movie, following the scenes with mild interest as he continued to enjoy his food.

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take the older slayer too long to finish his shower, coming down the staircase mere minutes after he disappeared behind the bathroom door. Still grumbling to himself, Dante used the towel thrown over his head to roughly dry off his silver mop of hair before draping the now damp piece of cloth around his bare shoulders since he skipped his shirt, only clad in loose, black baggies. Grabbing his own pizza carton from the table from where he’d left it, he made his way over to where the younger slayer was lounging and let himself fall beside him with a groan. 

“You’ll pay for that.”, he said halfheartedly as he took a slice of pizza and eagerly pushed more than half of it into his mouth.

“Dream on, old man.”

Together they watched the flickering pictures on the screen. Nero didn’t really follow the story, his mind soon drifting off to other places. He wondered what Kyrie was up to in this moment. They still talked over the phone sometimes. But what had been almost daily, was now once or twice a month, tops. She didn’t blame him for leaving, which he was utterly grateful for. After the events with Sanctus and the whole Knighthood ordearl, instead of finally being accepted into their society, he’d been shunned even more. As if he’d been something that should’ve disappeared with all the other demons. What once had been disrespect or simple ignorance had somehow transformed into outright hatred. Rumors had spread like wildfire that he’d somehow mind washed poor Kyrie into staying by his side, depriving her of her innocence. He scoffed at that.

Nero felt curious eyes shift to him at that sound, but he ignored it. Instead, he threw the rest of his slice back into his carton, still having two other pieces left. He stretched himself, arms coming up over his head and letting out a soft groan as he did so. He ruffled through his now mostly dry hair with his human hand, sighing as he put his head back against the backrest of the couch. Closing his eyes he listened to the noises coming from the TV, still seeing the flickering light through the thin layer of his eyelids. He relaxed even more into the soft leather, his arm and leg softly touching the ones from the man beside him.

He concentrated on the slight shifts each time Dante took a bite from his meal or when he went for another piece. The warmth spreading from where they touched sent goosebumps over his body. This was the other part that had changed. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint to when it began, but he came to enjoy the physical closeness they've come to share. Call him touch starved, but even with Kyrie he hadn’t had that much skin contact. The kiss they’d shared was the only real intimate contact he’d ever had, beside his own wanton touch at lonely nights. Which was pretty fucking sad in his opinion. But what other options were there, really? He’d loved Kyrie, but he didn’t want to drag her down with him. He could whore himself out like Dante did, which he’d come to learn to his dismay. He sometimes wondered if the old man’s flirtatious and carefree attitude was just simply _him_ , or if he’d long since given up on finding that special someone he could spend the rest of his life with. Still, even if his options didn’t look so dandy at the moment, he really didn’t mind his current position. He could even grudgingly admit within the privacy of his own mind that he enjoyed the older man’s company quite a bit; his pride and long lived independence mainly the reason keeping him from voicing it out loud and, deep down, the fear that he might jinx it.

He must’ve dozen off since when he slowly pried his eyes back open, he felt a thousand times more tired than before. A heavy yawn forced itself out, proving his own point. Slowly he noted that both of them had shifted positions, for he was leaning quite heavily onto Dante now with his head cushioned on his muscular chest. Said man was squeezed with his back into the corner of the couch, his head draped over the backrest together with one arm, the other hanging loosely from the side of the couch. Soft snores emerged with every deep breath he took, his eyes moving erratically behind his closed eyelids as he dreamt. Straightening himself back up, he bashfully scratched at his nose; his heart beating just a tad bit faster than usual. Something warm rushed through his body, leaving a pleasant tingling behind. Resting his elbows on his knees, he slowly glanced back at the half naked man beside him, making sure that he really was fast asleep before letting his eyes roam further down the lean body. Where the younger slayer’s chest was smooth and bare, he noted a soft, silver coat on Dante’s; barely visible chest hair in what almost looked like a heart-shape. That made Nero chuckle quietly. The patch ended shy above his prominent abs, toned skin stretched over strong muscles. His eyes trailed even lower, following another trail of silver hair just below his navel. It disappeared below the black cotton, just before the V-shape of his lower abdomen would complete its form. Was he disappointed by that? 

… was he? His brows furrowed as he stared at the black cotton as if the piece of cloth had personally offended him. He could just make out a bulge further down where the man’s baggies covered his most private parts. Why would he want to see the man’s dick?! It didn’t help that he now imagined the man without his pants, laying prone and bare on the black leather. The image made him blush furiously but more so confused him to why he wasn’t as repulsed by it as he probably should be. As he heard the other man’s breath suddenly hitch, it startled him out of his current reverie. He blushed furiously but was glad to see that Dante was just waking up, his eyes blinking sleepily, and hadn’t noticed him staring. On his fucking dick, for god's sake. He didn’t even want to know what smart remark he would’ve had to endure. Quickly looking in any other direction than Dante, he wanted desperately to flee into the privacy of his own room, hiding from Dante forever. But instead of drawing too much attention to him and making Dante suspicious, he simply stood up and stretched one last time.

“I’m heading to bed now.” he announced, more annoyed with himself than anything else. Grabbing his pizza carton with his two and a half slices, he made his way over to the kitchen to store them into the fridge. Might as well save it for breakfast tomorrow. He heard the TV being turned off and an obnoxiously loud yawn from the older slayer as he made his way back into the main room. Dante was standing by the staircase, his hair looking like a mess as if he’d just ruffled through it and his eyes still heavy with sleep. He doesn’t think of the word cute. He _doesn’t_.

“Your couch sucks, old man. My back’s fucking hurtin’!”, he complained just to distract himself from his own, weird thoughts.

“You sure it wasn’t because I beat your perky ass into the ground earlier that day?” Dante smirked, following the ex-knight up to their rooms.

“You wish, asshole!”, punching Dante’s shoulder with his demonic arm, hard. Before he could make a turn into his room though and escape the annoying man, he felt a warm hand at the back of his neck again, squeezing just enough that he felt his legs almost give out under him. He gasped as his joints became so weak all of the sudden, but just as he was about to collapse, the hand was gone again and Dante walked further down the hallway to his own room. Staggering slightly, he followed the older man with his gaze, now completely confused as to what the hell just happened.

“Sure thing, kid. Sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite..~”, he singsonged as if nothing had just happened and with a salute and a last grin disappeared into his room, closing the door softly behind himself. Confused as hell but not sure how to address the issue - not sure if he even wanted to -, he grumbled to himself as he sighed and finally stepped into his own room.


	2. Chapter 2

Disappearing people were one of the most common reasons for their missions. Desperate family members or friends calling Devil May Cry, seeking for help when the police failed to find their missing loved ones that were supposedly abducted or brainwashed by evil spirits. Those were usually the missions Nero went on alone since Dante refused to take them, claiming it didn’t pay enough to make it worth his time. And really, 8 out of 10 of those missions were everything except of demonic origin. Most clients just had crappy family dynamics or unfathomable living conditions, making him think that the missing person simply up and left it all behind. Hell, he’d even helped some on their way, bringing them to another town on the bike he borrowed from Dante to get around, dropping them off somewhere where they would continue their journey on their own. He might come back empty handed, but he’d still feel good in the long run. Mostly because he could fucking relate.

Missions that looked more promising loan wise usually started with stumbling over lots and lots of dead bodies. Representatives of smaller communes, a worried collective of neighbors, sometimes even mayors of small villages or towns called to report several people missing over the last few months or even years. By then it’s usually too late to hope for any survivors, but eliminating the threat and, if they were lucky, recovering the bodies paid the bills. Rural areas were a more common hunting ground for demons and the likes than big, overpopulated cities, which meant it ended in a daytrip most of the time.

It’s rare to get confronted with a mess as big as Fortuna had been, but it obviously happens. Those and similar missions were usually dragged in by Lady; the petite woman with short, black hair, two different colored eyes behind dark shades and a fable for shooting Dante in the head. The first time it’d happened, Nero really hadn’t known what to do as he’d stared in shock as Dante had tumbled backwards to the ground, along with his chair he’d been lounging on. He’d been about rip the woman's throat out with a snarl, but Dante had been able to defuse the situation just in time.

Anyway, those missions required a certain amount of preparation, depending on how many info's they’d been provided with. Together with Dante they could handle most of them easily, even competing against each other who’d kill the most demons, who’d find the big bad boss demon first and who’d throw the killing punch. 

But everything depended on the kind of demon they would be facing. There were demons whose only power lay in their body mass or pure, unrestricted strength. So as long as you didn’t stand around like an idiot or let yourself get caught, they were easy to deal with. The most dangerous threats were those who had the power to influence your mind or emotions. Even the demon blood running through their veins couldn’t protect the susceptible part that made them human. The part that made you feel joy, love, compassion and pleasure but also let you fear, hate and doubt yourself. The weaker link when it comes to battle, the strongest power when it comes to living. So they had to watch each other's back against demons of that kind, snapping the other out of their trickery.

Not knowing what kind of demon they’re facing can therefore get pretty dangerous pretty fast.

Nero’s gut was telling him exactly that right now. He was in deep shit. Earlier that morning Lady came in with a new mission for them, urging them on to do their fucking job and left with only an address and ‘DANGEROUS’ scribbled on an otherwise pristine piece of paper on their table. So they’d decided to go together since sometimes Lady’s right about the dangerous part. Still, they underestimated the threat greatly. 

When they’d arrived at a seemingly deserted ruin of what probably once had been a pompous mansion, they’d joked about all the clichés the demon fulfilled in one go. They’d barged right through the main entrance, kicking the large double doors from their hinges as they’d entered. There’d been nothing but old, half-rotten furniture and huge patches of mold on moist walls that’d burned in his nose. The high humidity combined with stale air had made it hard to breathe in the first place. All in all, his mood had grown more and more sour with every second they had to search through the mansion. He’d made a snarky comment about demons and their shitty taste in decoration when with a blink of an eye he’d found himself in a completely different room.

But not any room. It was _his_ room. Back in Fortuna, just like he’d left it. Logically, he knew that he couldn’t have traveled hundreds of miles from one moment to the other. Still, he marveled at how _real_ it looked when he himself couldn’t even picture every tiny detail from memory. Other than that, he felt…. nothing out of the ordinary, really. He even had his weapons still with him. 

The thick air from the ramshackle mansion had lifted; now he could only smell what’s distinctively the aroma of his own room and even a hint of salty seawater. Slowly circling around himself, looking for any flaw in the otherwise perfect projection, he tried to figure out what exactly the plan behind all this was. Probably nothing good, but he felt ok for now. Not knowing what else to do, he slowly moved to his former bedroom’s door, gingerly stretching his right hand out and placing it onto the handle. He wondered what lay behind that door. Would he see Kyries sad eyes again like on the day he had left? Would he have to fight some of the more self-righteous citizens like he had been forced to when all he’d wanted was to catch the ferry in time? 

The metal felt solid and cold against his skin as he pushed the door open. The sunlight coming from the small window to his right illuminated his former - small but sufficient-for-one - lounge, painting it in a friendly yellow. A mop of red-brown hair looked up from behind the back of his worn-out sofa, moving ever so slightly with whatever the person was doing that Nero couldn’t see from his point of view. He slowly moved forwards, rounding the dark blue sofa, dreading what he might see. He knew exactly who that person was, picturing them with bloodied eyes, carved out intestines while whispering vile words. What he got instead was the curious look of no other than his step-sister, Kyrie, working on stitching together one of his perforated jeans. 

“Really, Nero, I should teach you how to do this yourself, so I don’t have to come here every other day. You would be running around naked if it weren’t for me”, she giggled cutely at her own joke, continuing on threading the needle carefully through the thick cloth so she wouldn’t accidentally prick herself. 

The younger slayer’s heart hurt as he watched Kyrie continue salvaging his clothes like she’d used to. He hadn’t earned much back then, definitely not enough to buy new clothes all the time. The sight just made him yearn to see her again, made him realize how much he really missed the company of the petite girl. Swallowing thickly, he didn’t answer and instead averted his gaze. Hoping that it wouldn’t bite him in the ass to turn his back on her, still counting that something terrible was about to happen, he walked to the front door without a word.

“Nero, are you alright…?”, sounded the soft voice, confusion clearly laced in it.

He clenched his teeth, reciting that this wasn’t real over and over in his head like a mantra. He rushed out the door and flew down the steps until he reached the bottom and stormed out onto still familiar streets of Fortuna. Melancholy hit him hard this time. This has been his home once, even though it hadn’t always felt that way. A sharp pain in the center of his chest made him jump in surprise, his hand coming up to touch the spot. But as sudden as it came, as quick did it go. Rubbing the spot though his jacket, he furrowed his brows in confusion. He had to find a way out of here.

Ignoring the people who were all around enjoying the warm weather under a clear, blue sky, he decided the best way to see where or _when_ he was would be checking out the state of the city. When he’d left, some parts were still being rebuilt, others that’d been damaged beyond repair were completely demolished before build on again. So it shouldn’t be hard for him to spot some residual trace of destruction, especially the further he went east. He followed the main road until he took a turn to the left, passing by the small jewelry shop where he'd bought Kyries necklace, past the handmade noodles restaurant where he’d sometimes went for lunch. Passersby also weren’t completely oblivious of him. Some straight out smiled at him or greeted him; faces he’d never seen before suddenly knew his name. And this time not to throw profanities at him even though his Devil Bringer was out in the open for everyone to see. He ignored them and the urge to hide his arm behind his back as best as he could, trying not to fall for any tricks. 

Nero couldn’t spot a single crack on the pristine, pastel-colored plaster of the facades surrounding him. When he turned another corner to the right through a long archway, he followed the narrow, cobbled walkway, around a fountain with sparkling water spouting from the highest point, until he climbed steps up to the grand opera house where he had his first encounter with the other devil slayer. Throwing open the heavy wooden double doors with ease, he walked past the dozens of pews deeper into the grand hall. The statue of Sparda stood as pretentious as ever in its spot, not a single crack where he’d impaled Sparda’s son to with his own sword. As he stood before the overtowering piece of marble, colored in specks of colored light from the mosaic windows above, he wondered if it all had even happened here.

“Nero.”, came a low, authoritative rumble from somewhere behind him, echoing of the bare walls. Hackles rising instantly, he swirled around to see no other than traitorous fucking Credo standing at the entrance, looking like the Supreme General he was supposed to be, having the audacity to act like nothing happened!

“Kyrie told me you were acting strange. Is everything alright?”, he asked in his usual no-nonsense tone as he walked towards the ex-knight. “Is your devil side acting up?” He voiced the question as if they’d talked about his demon blood over dinner.

“Don’t come any closer!”, Nero growled, readying himself for a fight. He spread his claws of his Devil Bringer in a menacing way, making clear that he wasn't playing around.

“What is going on here?!”

“What are you talking about?”, his former mentor asked incredulously, but stopped nonetheless. 

He felt another stab in the center of his chest, this time a thousand times more painful than the last time. Crying out in pain, he fell down onto his knees, clawing at his chest with his one arm while the other kept him barely from collapsing onto the pristine marble floor. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to work through the agony. He could hear nothing other than his own screams as the white, hot pain just wouldn't stop! He could feel his right arm pulse in response, the power of his devil side threatening to overpower him and forcing him to trigger, to protect himself from whatever was hurting him. Just as he thought he couldn’t hold on anymore, the pain subsided, leaving behind a shrill ringing in his ears. He tried to regain his breath, small gasp escaping his mouth as he slowly opened his eyes again. He felt gloved hands on his cheeks, the material cold against his flushed face. His vision was still blurry but as his head was slowly lifted, he could barely make out the worried expression of Credo. His first thought was that it looked surprisingly out of character for the usually stoic man. Gradually leaning back and out of reach, the younger slayer calmed himself down enough to stand back straight up again. His legs wobbled dangerously under his weight for a moment but soon found their strength back.

A strong hand grabbed him on his right wrist and suddenly his arm was swung around the other man’s shoulder. 

“You’re sometimes worse than I am, with your pride standing in your way.”, Credo grumbled as he started to lead Nero out of the opera house, his other arm laid securely around the ex-knights back.

“What is wrong with you…” Nero mumbled weakly, following his mentor for now, still trying to recover from his previous attack.

“What is wrong with _you_ , boy. I’ve never seen you like this! I’ll bring you to our infirmary. Are you sure it doesn’t have something to do with the arm of yours?”

“Why would you even care? Since when would you accept something like my other half, other than your own, deluded believes!”

“I really do not know what is up with you today, so I will reproach you later for the way you’re talking to me.”, Nero could almost feel as Credo crunched his teeth. “But we're not having another discussion about your self-doubt again. It would be a bit hypocritical, would it not, for us to glorify the demon Sparda who fought his own kin for humanity, but condemn you when you use your strength to protect others?”, he took a quick look at the younger slayer before continuing. “We accept you. We all do. A lot of people even think of you as a sign of Sparda himself, but don’t let that get into your head, you understand?”

Nero was speechless. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought of a scenario like this. He kept staring at the other knight, looking for any insincerity there, but in the stern mask of Credo’s face he found none. He knew that he couldn’t really trust the man that had betrayed him once before. The wound that had been left behind still cut deep. But for a moment - for a split second - he wished that this was how it really went. For The Order of the holy Knighthood to follow their views like they were supposed to and not turn into a supervillain posse. And in the end, this was what he'd always hoped for. To not be the weird, unwanted orphan, and later the monster with the cursed arm. An _abomination_.

The next wave that surged through him kicked the breath right out of his lungs. He collapsed in an instant, not even having time for Credo to stop him from falling. He lay flat on his back as his whole body hurt like he’s being burned alive. His mouth was wide open as he screamed his lungs out but he couldn’t hear a sound, the blood rushing through his ears like a river after a typhoon. He began to thrash out, trying to hit something that wasn’t there, just to make it stop! _Make it stop!_

At the back of his mind he felt his trigger unravel, felt his consciousness being pushed further and further down. He welcomed the darkness, the complete numbness that surrounded him, consumed him. Time seemed to stand still as he floated, nothing seemed to matter anymore. 

What felt like an eternity later, he heard a muffled voice that sounded vaguely familiar. He tried to concentrate on the low rumble, tried to chase it to its roots. When he heard it again he could barely distinguish Dante’s low, rumbling voice. Listening closely, everything came suddenly back in a rush.

“ _Submit!_ ”

Nero gasped as he felt his own body go from too tense to completely pliant in mere milliseconds, a clawed hand squeezing the back of his neck tightly. Eyes wide, his head pressed on his side to the cold floor, the first thing he came to recognize was what looked like a huge pile of dried out human bodies in a corner, their skin various shades from brown to black, depending on their decaying process. He also felt a heavy weight pressing him down hard against the ground, the stench of blood making his eyes water slightly. He tried to pry his hands free from behind his back, but the iron grip holding them in place and the one in his neck only gripping tighter, a deep growl warning him to try anything. He gasped and whimpered quietly at that, squeezing his eyes back shut, not moving one muscle.

Suddenly the weight lifted and he was roughly rolled on his back. Opening his eyes again, he saw Dante leaned over him, eyes a dangerous crimson color and growling deeply, showing how close the elder was to triggering himself. His hands were now pinned above his head, held down in the same vice grip as before.

“Dante….?” The younger slayer croaked, his voice rough from overuse. 

The relieve was evident in Dante's posture as he deflated visibly. Closing his eyes before reopening them showed Nero the well-known icy color back in its place. 

“God damnit, kid. You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“That’s what makes you old, old man…”, he countered flatly, surprising himself with it.

Dante stared down at him for a few seconds before laughing with all his might, leaning his forehead down against Nero’s shoulder while his whole body rocketed with laughter. He released the younger slayers hands as he tried to regain his control, straightening back up with a smirk on his face which made him look a few years younger.

Nero would’ve enjoyed making the more experienced hunter laugh so wholeheartedly, wouldn’t it be for the cold sensation of fresh blood all over his body. He gingerly touched the center of his chest with his human hand, finding a huge hole ripped through his clothes, flinching when his fingers brushed a tender wound. He slowly propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at himself, trying to distinguish what from the crimson color was actually his flesh and what not. There was a huge crater gaping in his chest, fitting almost his whole fist. And it hurt like a _bitch_.

“Fuck, what _happened?!_ ”, he asked incredulously as he looked back up to Dante who was now crouching beside him. He wondered how he was even still alive with a wound like this.

“You tell me, kid. One moment you were there, and when i looked away for a second you were gone! I had to chop down this blood-leeching tree thing all by myself because you had to play livestock blood pack up there.“, he recounted and pointed upwards. He tried to see what Dante meant by it which, as it turned out, wasn‘t the best idea when you suffered from severe blood loss. His world tilted and he felt himself fall onto his back, his head colliding painfully with the concrete below him. The last image he saw before consciousness slipped away was Dante‘s worried face close to his. 

Then everything went black.

 

———

 

Consciousness slowly crept up on him. His body felt heavy as lead, his eyelids even more so. So instead of trying to move, he concentrated on the sounds around him. At first there was nothing more than static. The rushing sound that drowned everything else out. But just like before, he could gradually distinguish the low rumble of voices. Who they belonged to he didn‘t know, but there was no urge to them. He took in a deep breath and regretted it instantly. The soaring pain was back again, this time only coming from the center of his chest. He felt himself groan in pain, the grumbling sound pressing out of his throat but without actually hearing it. Slowly, he could feel the rest of his body again. His outer appendages, like his feet and hands, tingling like they‘d fallen asleep. The air around him felt cold, his upper body bare save for what was wrapped around his middle and upper body, pressing uncomfortably against the source of his despair. He blindly lifted his right hand to feel around his chest, but slender fingers curling around his wrist kept him from touching. The muffled voices acted up again, becoming clearer and clearer by the second. Nero tried again to lift his heavy eyelids, concentrating all of what‘s left of his strength to see. 

Bright light blinded him the first few blinks as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. A brown blotch on a cream-colored background slowly but steadily became more and more clear as he focused. It was a fan, securely managed to a ceiling. But not any ceiling from what he believed. He thought he might be back home at the office, back at Devil May Cry. Blonde hair and a well proportioned face appeared suddenly in front of him. He blinked a few times as he stared up at Trish, watching her move her mouth but couldn‘t really make out what she was saying. She didn‘t look worried though, her soft smile turning smug when she looked up to whoever she was talking to his left while she stood to his right. He must be laying on the large wooden table in the center of the room, if he wasn‘t mistaken. The rushing sound from his ears was beginning to ebb away, leaving him to understand more of their conversation over him.

„You know that he could‘ve actually died back there, right? It wasn‘t only blood that demon was after. That‘s why it's taking him so long to heal.“

„Well that info would‘ve been helpful _before_ we took the mission. ‚Dangerous‘ didn‘t really cut it. A pencil can be dangerous if used right.“, came the low, annoyed rumble from Dante, probably sitting in his chair close by. He carefully rolled his head to the side, following the sound of the older man's voice. Every muscle hurt so goddamn much; he felt like he’d been run over by a truck. And even that he would’ve probably withstood better than this. Was he the only one hurt, or did the demon take his toll on Dante too, he worried. 

Icy blue orbs looked at him, but his usual playful expression was contorted to a hard mask. Only a barely there smile played on his lips as the older man saw him watching.

„If you two could stop being the idiots that you are and take a mission with dozens of missing people serious for once, maybe something like this wouldn‘t happen. Nice influence you are on him, Dante.“ Lady retorted from somewhere else, but he couldn't quite locate where her voice was coming from. She must have moved since it came from another direction this time.

„You‘re lucky that I check on you two after missions like that. I doubt you could‘ve held him down _and_ patched him up before he‘d bled out.“

„His devil side took over to hold onto life, though I‘m surprised he didn’t listen to your demon when you tried to calm him down earlier…“ Trish mumbled in thought.

„It did the first time, that way I at least was able to roughly patch the kid up before making sure that that demon really was dead and hadn’t another poor guy hooked to its system.“ Dante looked up only briefly before turning his attention back to Nero. „How are you holding up, kid? We‘re just done here, so I‘ll bring you up to your room shortly for you to rest.“

The younger slayer sighed in relief. He felt sleep trying to flood his mind again, fatigue taking over. „S‘fine.“ he managed to rumble, his throat feeling like he‘d swallowed dry sand, eyes falling back shut without his permission. Strong arms came around his back and under his knees as he‘s being picked up, hissing as it stretched his tender wound painfully.

„Why would Nero‘s demon calm down just because Dante wanted it to?“ Lady asked confused.

„We should take our leave now, babe.“ Trish answered instead. „Let us know when you need any help, Dante.“ Her trademark high heels thudding dully against the wooden floor as she took her leave with Lady soon following. He heard Lady continue to try prying answers from her girlfriend as they disappeared through the main entrance, the door closing with a soft thud behind them.

The strong chest he was pressed against held a grounding warmth, making him unconsciously press closer to it as he felt them ascend.

„Sleep, kid. Tomorrow will be better.“

And so he did.


	3. Chapter 3

He’s been asleep almost constantly the past few days, sometimes not even sure if he hadn’t slept an entire day without waking up once. That demon had really hit him hard. He hadn’t gotten any further details yet since he couldn’t keep his eyes open for more than five minutes, but he’s getting there. Dante came to check on him constantly. Now that he wasn’t in a life-threatening condition anymore, the older man teased the hell out of him for it. Though he was glad that he kept his mouth shut when the younger man needed help going to the bathroom. Well, mostly anyways.

On day three, he felt good enough to slowly but steadily make his way downstairs. When he wobbled down the stairs, taking one step at a time, Dante rushed to his side as soon es he saw him. Scolding him like a 5-year-old, he helped him to their couch, sighed contently as he was sat down, happy to be out of the confines of his own bed. Something was sizzling in their kitchen, the noise so out of place that he first thought there was a cooking show on TV. 

“Don’t tell me you’re actually cooking, old man…”, he asked with an eyebrow raised to the older slayer.

“Hey, hey. I’ve been for the past few days, if you haven’t noticed. You seemed pretty eager to scarf down whatever I brought to you. Where else would I’ve gotten it from?”

“Lady? Maybe Trish? Anyone else but you?”, he smirked.

“As if. You might be their favorite out of us two, but don’t think they’d actually cook for you. … or maybe they would, but then you’d get the bill from Lady to go.” He waved him off, disappearing back into the kitchen. Actually, Nero really had thought that either Lady or Trish might’ve brought him some actual food to save him from recovering on pizza alone. Or maybe there might’ve opened a new restaurant nearby which offered cheap food to go. Thinking of Dante in a grocery store, contemplating what to do for dinner, made him want to laugh out loud. Instead, he snickered quietly to himself, turning on the TV. He got the time from the news channel, telling him it was almost 7pm. He’d almost slept all day, again.

When the older man came back next, it was with two plates in his hands. He placed them on the round coffee table in front of the couch. From what Nero could tell, now that he was able to fully concentrate on what’s was on his plate where before he had to constantly fight off sleep, he had to give the man some credit. 

“Are those self-made burgers?” Nero marveled, looking at the neatly stacked ingredients, even with a little toothpick through the middle to hold everything together. A thick patty with cheese, tomato and what even looked like actual lettuce trapped between two buns speckled with small corns of sesame on top.

“Did the demon also make you blind, kid? What else does it look like. Now shut it and dig in.” Without further ado, Dante grabbed his own burger from his plate, leaned back and took a huge bite, nodding in approval of what he’d created. His eyes looking back at Nero as if to dare him to say anything more before he’d taken a bite.

Shaking his head lightly and huffing a laugh, he grabbed what was his own burger from his plate. Taking the burger in both hands, he noted that it really didn’t look half as bad, making his mouth water as he squeezed it lightly to make it a bit easier for him to take a bite. Taking his first bite and chewing, he huffed out a sound of appreciation. Out of the corner of his eyes he might’ve seen the older man puff out his chest a bit. They continued to enjoy their meal in silence, watching whatever was going on around the city through the local news report. He licked the last bit of sauce and crumbs from his fingers when he was finished, leaning back heavily against the backrest with a content sigh. Leaning his head back, he rolled it to the side so he could look at Dante. He caught the other man staring straight back at him, his own meal already finished. Instead of looking away though like any other person would do if caught staring, his gaze didn’t waver, pinning him with it to the spot. Nero had no clue what prompted it, but he chose to ignore it.

“So….” he began slowly, wanting at least some answers before he’d go back to his room. “How come I was the only one under the influence of their mind game? I mean back at that ramshackle of a mansion.”

Running a hand through his silver locks, the older man slid down a bit into a more comfortable position before he answered. “Believe me, you weren’t the only one.”, he said with something dark laced in his voice, letting his gaze roam through the shop. Now Nero just grew more and more curious by the second. “But unlike you I didn’t let it push me under.”

“Well, it wasn’t like I really had a chance. There was nothing that could’ve snapped me out of it, I looked…! It was just.. as if I’d teleported to somewhere else.”

“What d’you mean?”, his eyes locked back onto the younger man beside him, causing Nero to avert his this time. “What did you see?”

“It wasn’t… bad.”, he started, shrugging lightly. “I was back at Fortuna… but there wasn’t really anything else going on. I kinda started at my room like how it’d been back then. Kyrie - or whatever made it look like Kyrie - sat on my couch and fuckin’ sew some of my clothes back together. I didn’t really stay that long, went through the streets and looked for any sign that something was off.” He shrugged. Letting the images play before his eyes again, he tried to make sense of it. Dante just sat quickly beside him, waiting for him to go on.

“There had been no sign that there’d ever happened anything, none of the destruction. When I went to the grand opera house, y’know the one where you so graciously barged through the roof window and blew Sanctus’ fuckin brain out, there was no trace of it either. The weirdest part, really, was fuckin’ _Credo_ ”, he growled the name, “suddenly walk in and talk to me as if nothing had happened.”

“Well….”, Dante started, scratching his neck as he also obviously tried to make sense of it. “Since the demon seemed to want and keep you as its own little life source, I guess it just wanted to show you something that would keep you.. at rest.”, he shrugged.

“Well, then it should’ve just put me somewhere in a timeline that wouldn’t make me as suspicious, right? I mean, Credo looked at me, looked at _all of me_ ”, he emphasized it with wagging his Devil Bringer in front of him, “as if it was the most normal thing in the world! People on the street knew my name, they weren’t even bothered with me all geared up and ready to fight! And then this fucking pep talk…”, he scoffed.

“What pep talk?” Dante encouraged him.

“Well…”, he flushed slightly at that, running his hands over his thighs in a nervous gesture. “It was just weird… he just told me that there was nothing wrong with me or my devil side. That it even was a fucking sign of Sparda or some shit. Credo had _never_ talked like that. He even addressed the hypocrisy of that…”, shaking his head lightly, still unbelieving of that scene.

His shoulders tensed up as Dante didn’t voice his thoughts immediately after, making the bandages around his chest tighten against his wound. The light pain making him even more tense. He chanced a glance to Dante, watching the man look around the office in thought.

“Well, you definitely got lucky with that.”, he finally answered, his gaze turning back to the younger man. “But isn’t that exactly what bothered you the most? That they couldn’t accept you and forced you out of the city because of that? It seems reasonable it would show you something you desire to keep you immobilized. Being able to live without hiding… being with your sweet little girl like you had every intention to, am I right?”

He stared down onto the floor between his legs, tugging lightly at the hem of his shirt with one hand in thought. “Well no… I mean yes but-”

“Kid, I had to personally burn your sling for your arm so you wouldn’t hide it all the time!”

“Fine! Okay… yes, it would’ve been nice if it’d _really_ gone that way in reality but this.. this illusion was just so absurd that I couldn’t have gotten along with it even if I’d tried!”, he growled.

“Not even with cute, sweet Kyrie by your side?” Dante chuckled lowly, making Nero blush furiously, while a low growl simultaneously ripped itself from his throat. He had no clue where _that_ had come from. Clearing his throat, he continued. 

“No, even then. I mean… “, he sighed, unsure how to proceed, glancing briefly back at the other man beside him.

“With you two hiding behind that Credos back, making out like lovesick teenagers I’d bet you’d be? Moving in together, both of you blushing when holding hands in public-”, now he was simply made fun of.

“That’s not what I meant, asshole!”, punching the other man’s thigh hard with his human hand balled into a fist. “It’s not about Kyrie, alright! Not anymore, anyways. She was just unlucky enough to be thrown in between. All I wanted was for her to be safe, alright?”

“And bone her.”

“What are you, 12?!”, he rolled his eyes, leaning back again. And here he thought they might have a serious conversation for once. Until he remembered who exactly was sitting beside him.

“Well, fine then, kid. If you say so…”, he shrugged but definitely didn’t sound convincing. 

“What was it you saw? What do you mean by ‘I got lucky’?”, he watched as Dante grew considerably more uncomfortable, throwing his legs up onto the coffee table, crossing them at his ankles.

“Nothing pretty, I tell you that.” he shrugged. “While it tried to keep you in, it probably tried to make me leave.”

“What was it…?” Nero asked more softly. He turned more to the other, pulling one leg up onto the couch while propping his elbow onto the backrest and holding his head up with his hand. There was a short pause after that before the other man sighed.

“At first, it was my brother.” 

Nero had to recall what little Dante had actually told him about his brother. It wasn’t pretty.

“I had to kill him, again. Well, his illusion anyway. We weren’t anywhere different though like you were, so it was easier for me to keep a clear head. After that didn’t work....” he hesitated, looking a bit unsure into the younger slayers direction. Taking a deep breath, he continued once more, trying not to sound too affected but his voice was too strained for Nero to believe his nonchalant appearance.

“It was you, kid. At first, I’d thought you’d gotten yourself out of wherever you’d disappeared to. I wasn’t sure at first if it was the real you or just another illusion, even though your lookalike kept attacking me and tried _real hard_ to kill me.”

“So what was the difference then? How did you know it wasn’t me? Could’ve been under some spell or something.” Nero mused, noting from his expression that Dante wasn’t telling him everything, though.

“I thought of the same. But, y’know? That guy was _good_. Way better than you, kid. Almost got me once or twice.”, he smirked down at Nero.

“Asshole...!”, he punched him once more. “Why couldn’t you just simply ignore them when they were just illusions?”

“Didn’t really work that way. No idea though, maybe some kind of ‘if your mind thinks you’re hurt, you get real wounds’ stuff. Ask Trish for details.”, he shrugged. “So while you were hanging around having your little daydream, _someone_ had to do the dirty work. That demon had been more like a tree, the further I went into the building, the more of its strange vines where visible. The closer I got to the basement, the more corpses littered the floor, thicker vines buried deep into their chest. That’s how it probably sucked the life out of them and you. The corpses looked more like oversized rosins, if you’d asked me. Down in the basement I found the demons heart surrounded by even more vines, but it was surprisingly easy to hack through it, if it weren’t for the constant mind tricks.”

“Must’ve been around the time it really started hurin’.” Nero mused.

“Yeah, probably. ‘Cause I heard you scream as I was about to deal the finishing blow and felt you trigger. I just had enough time to kill the damn thing before you rudely interrupted me.”, he smirked. “Jumped on me like a mad man and tried ripping my throat out while bleeding all over me. I tell you kid, not the nicest way to thank your savior.” Patting the ex-knight on his thigh, he let his hand linger for a moment before he brought it back to himself.

Nero grew nervous as he thought about what Trish’d said on that day, and what’d happened just as he’d woken up. Was it connected to what’s been going on between them, especially when they’d fight? He had to ask now before he’d chicken out again.

“So…. “, he started reluctantly, shuffling slightly in his spot. “How exactly did you get me to detrigger, then…?”

Their eyes met and the atmosphere around them suddenly felt a thousand times more serious. They stared at each other for a few moments, Dante looking for something on his face, what it was though Nero wasn’t sure. It felt like he had to sit up straighter for this.

“I forced you, or rather your demon side, into submission.”

Huh. Accepting that as it is for now, because he couldn’t really make any sense of it for now, he only furrowed his brows.

“So what… is it like a power balance between demons? Can you simply dominate”, he blushed slightly at that, “other demons?”

With a sigh, the older man ruffled through his hair, possibly trying of the right way to phrase it. “It’s not that simple, kid. I can’t simply tell any other demon to throw itself in front of me, belly up.”

“Why did it work on me – I mean, my demon half – then?”, he inquired. There was another pause, longer this times as Dante sorted out his words. 

“Alright, I’ll tell you, okay? But I want you to stay quiet until I’m finished, got it?”

That only caused his nervousness to amplify, letting the dread sink in. His lips pressed into a thin line as he gave a curt nod.

Another pause as Dante stared right back at him, but as Nero just patiently waited for him to tell him what’s wrong, he looked defeated.

“I have to start with the birds and the bees first, though.”, just as Nero was about to ask what the hell that’d to do with anything, a sharp finger came up, telling the younger man to shut up.

“Demons seek out their partners differently to how humans do. Even though most of them only look for a quick fuck to propagate, there are a few that mate for life. They have certain rituals, kind of like birds have with their mating dance or whatever.” He cleared his throat, looking briefly to the side before his gaze found Nero’s again who was still listening closely.

“You might’ve noticed, actually. Last time we fought, especially. Where we cleared out this group of scarecrows? The air grew thicker the longer we’d fought. Became heavy and smelled sweet and alluring. Right?”

Nero only nodded hesitantly, knowing exactly what the other man was on about but couldn’t really describe it himself.

“Well, that’s our little ‘mating dance’, kid. Our demon halfs are hooked on each other. It’s not as if our devil side has its own consciousness. It’s more like instincts of some kind and on the other side our heightened senses and abilities. And because of that, because of my demon being the dominant one”, he explained carefully, “yours would listen to mine. Well, except for that one time, but that was for a whole other reason.”

He stared wide-eyed at Dante but couldn't seem to find any words yet. And Dante let him, watching him carefully, ready for whatever reaction he might get.

So his creeping suspicion that it had something to do with their devil sides turned out to be on point, but not in a way he’d thought. Or rather not dared to think of further. Still, there were so many blank spots!

“But how come I didn’t know what was going on?”, he asked the other man.

Seemingly surprised to be confronted with another question, Dante blinked a few times before answering.

“Well, that you have to ask yourself.”

“So you knew what was going on from the start?” he prompted, but only earned him a shrug.

Blushing further at that revelation, he really didn’t know how to proceed. If Dante knew what was going on, why didn’t he tell him earlier? And, what's more important…

“And you… you are ok with this...? You would’ve just let it happen?”, he asked hesitantly, trying to decipher how Dante felt about all this. But all he got was another shrug. Before his hackles could rise though for not getting a clear answer, he was pulled closed to the other man, almost nose to nose.

“I made up my mind a long time ago. Even I wouldn’t play around like this with you.” His voice coming out in a quiet rumble, letting his breath ghost over the lips of the younger man as he spoke. The look on Dante's face with a newfound intensity Nero had never seen before. His heart felt like it might burst out of his ribcage any moment now. He let his eyes flicker over the man’s face, looking for any hint that might prove what Nero thought this all meant. As his eyes landed back onto his icy blue orbs, he swallowed thickly. He knew where he wanted this to go, deep down agreeing with whatever had brought them to this moment. What had really kept him from digging deeper, from openly studying what he really felt, what he wanted to do with his future life, and what part Dante should play in it, was the constant fear of the end. That his stay here at the shop, at his newfound home, was only temporarily. That he would be forced to leave sometime, be it because Dante grew tired of him or because .. he didn’t even really know what else might’ve come up. Hell, he’d never thought that he would be chased out of his previous home. Now that everything lay wide open in front of him, Dante’s words portrayed in the way he looked at him, he knew exactly what he wanted. That it was with another man didn’t really bother him. Being with another person of the same gender was met with disdain back in Fortuna, but didn’t hinder them to continue behind closed doors. Even in the knighthood it wasn’t unheard of, but kept quiet about. He’d never been bothered by it.

He felt Dante shift some more, not letting his eyes leaving his own, but one hand came up around him, stroking softly over his back. His breath hitched at that, one hand coming up to support himself on the man’s shoulder. He saw Dante’s eyes flicker quickly to his lips as he anticipated what might come. Slowly the man moved forwards, probably to give Nero enough time to decide what he wanted. But instead of fleeing, his eyes fell shut. Suddenly, soft lips were pressed against his, not moving yet. Soft stubble tickled him on his own bare chin. When he felt those lips move against him, he tilted his head a bit which earned him an approving rumble. His heart ran 60 miles an hour, all his senses working on overdrive. He could hear the rustle of their clothes against each other, feel the growing heat between them. The arm around him beckoned him closer. He let the hand resting on Dante’s shoulder go all around his neck, joined by his other arm. A soft tongue traced his lower lip, asking for entrance. Just as he was about to grant it, his chest brushed against the others causing him to flinch away in pain. 

“Fuck…”, he cursed, one hand coming up to touch his own chest but he stopped himself just in time, not wanting to make it worse. Looking down at himself he glared at the bandages that could be seen through his shirt, cursing them to ruin the moment. A soft chuckle made him look up again, mirth clearly visible in the older slayers look, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he grinned down at him. 

“Looks like you’d better up and rest, I don’t think-” before he could proceed though, Nero wrapped his arms back around his neck and let himself fall back onto the couch, dragging Dante with him and trusting the man to hold his weight as not to crush onto him. It still hurt as he moved, but he ignored it in favor of crushing their lips back together. The surprise didn’t last long as Dante dove back in with new fervor. This time Nero didn’t hesitate as he opened his mouth and welcomed the hot tongue with his own. He moaned softly into the other’s mouth, diving into the utterly new feeling of two tongues entwining. The few pecks he’d placed onto Kyries lips couldn't compare in the slightest to what this did to him. Where Dante’s right arm kept his upper body from touching the man below him, especially his tender chest, his other hand was free to roam. It kneaded one side of his hips, his thumb brushing over the prominent hip bone. Thick fingers fumbled with the hem of his shirt before they could disappear underneath, softly stroking over his milky skin but not higher than where his bandages started. Goosebumps erupted all over his body as the hand slid lower again, deft fingers pushing underneath the waistband of his boxershorts, lower and lower over the side of his ass to his thigh, until the waistband couldn’t stretch any more. The younger slayer groaned into the kiss, having to get some air back into his lungs. Dante seemed to have other plans though, as his mouth began its journey over the corner of his mouth, along the sharp line of his jaw, down the length of his neck. He nosed along the spot where his neck met his shoulder, when his mouth circled around the sensitive area and suddenly sucked _hard_. Nero threw his head back as a loud moan was being ripped out of him by it. His toes curled as Dante kept on sucking. With a plop he let go of that spot, nibbling along his shoulder just below it.

“Damnit kid… “, he breathed against his skin. “If you keep on doing that, I don’t know if I can hold myself back.”

Panting slightly, Nero turned his head to look at the other man. “Then don’t…” he mumbled heatedly, not seeing a reason why he should. But instead of continuing his adventures, Dante did the impossible and leaned back, pulling his hand out of the younger slayers tented boxers.

“What are you doing..!”, he demanded, not wanting any space at all between them, his injury be damned.

“We have all the time in the world, kid…”, he grinned down at him, placing another quick kiss on his lips. Nero grabbed him by the hair though and held onto the kiss. They made out some more, Dante steering their kiss into a gentler one, but not touching him otherwise. Nero sharply nipped at the other man’s lower lip in frustration which made Dante huff out a laugh.

“Believe me kid, I’d like nothing more than to ravish you right now.” He underlined this with rolling his own, obviously tented crotch against the man below him, causing both to moan at the contact.

“But you’re still not up for the more physically demanding part yet, as sad as this might be.” He pecked him on the lips some more.

“Since when did you become the reasonable one of us, old man…” Nero murmured pouting. 

“Since I want you to howl in ecstasy and not in pain.” With a light nip on his shoulder, Dante leaned back up for good and carefully pulled Nero up with him into an upright position so they were sitting shoulder to shoulder. The man lay an arm around Nero’s shoulders, pulling him just a bit closer. “So you wanna stay down here for a bit more, or should I help you back upstairs to your room?”, he asked as he let a hand run through the soft, silky strands of the younger man beside him.

Nero grumbled something unintelligible at first before relaxing into their position with a sigh. “Don’t wanna go just yet.”, he mumbled, looking back at the TV. He was still a bit flushed from their recent activities and he concentrated on deflating his residual arousal. He hoped this wasn’t just a dream, as cliché like that might sound. That he'd be allowed to be near the more experienced hunter on a whole new level. He let his head be cushioned by the strong shoulder beside him, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the attention he got from him, enjoying the feeling of the hand softly massaging his scalp. It didn’t take long after that before he fell back into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

The following days were strained with what Nero learned to be heavy sexual tension that even the blonde demoness complained about them stinking up the place with mating pheromones. It certainly would’ve made him flush with embarrassment wouldn’t his body be constantly brimming with excessive arousal. Also seeing Dante getting all territorial, growling at Trish in a threatening way and watching Ladies eyes bulk out at that was hilarious and so _hot_ that he’d jumped onto the older man as soon as they’d been alone again. Trish seemed to understand, though. It looked like once the barrier that had been between them all this time had been broken, they couldn’t keep their hands from each other. His neck and shoulders were littered with dark, purple spots and light bite marks that even his body couldn’t keep up with its fast healing ability – granted, his devil side was still weaker than usual but swiftly recovering. Not fast enough, though. 

Still, they didn’t take it as far as Nero really wanted it to go. Dante had told him that his wounds were still too fresh, too easy to rip open again that he wouldn’t risk it, as he’d been pushed against the heavy wooden table and had been gripped by his hips tightly, successfully trapping him between his body and the solid piece of furniture. He’d huskily rumbled into his ear that he didn’t want to hold back once they let loose. That he probably couldn't, neither himself nor his devil side once they took that step. It would be rough, but _oh so good_. Nero’s excitement had spiked to a point where he’d thought he couldn’t hold himself back, but the promise in Dante’s words had kept him grounded, anticipating what was about to come.

So they made out, touched the other without taking it too far and waited for Nero’s chest to finally heal enough and his devil side to get back to full power.

It took seven days. _Seven_.

By the end of the week, Nero felt drained for a whole other reason. Each morning he would look the other man in the eye with his question clearly portrayed, but each time Dante would shake his head and instead pull him into a languid kiss. Dante helped him change his bandages regularly and soon had left the cooking to Nero again when he could stand for more than half an hour. 

On the morning of the fifth day, Nero had put a hand on himself in a rush of desperation, thinking about all the scenarios their first time could unfold into. He had come with a silent shout as hot liquid burst onto his naked torso and partly over his bandages. But instead of taking a shower afterwards, he had simply cleaned himself off with a tissue before going downstairs, clad in only his black boxers. Dante had been up already, sitting in his usual spot by the wooden table, his chair tipped back with his legs lazily propped onto the dark surface as he’d been skimming through one of his magazines. His nostrils had flared as he took up trail, his head had whipped around comically and made him lose balance and almost tipping over in the process. Nero would’ve laughed out loud at the older man’s reaction, wouldn’t it have been for the bone shaking growl that emitted from the man’s throat, as it had dangerously rumbled Nero’s name with such power that he had only been able to stand there like a deer in headlights. The air around them had exploded with the musky, hazy smell that he’d known from their little sparrings, had felt it press against his bare skin. They hadn’t even made it to the couch or any other resembling surface; instead Dante had pushed him down onto the hard, wooden floor before ravishing him. It had been only shortly after that they’d found their climax in each other's hands with a groan. The almost perfectly round bite mark on his right shoulder still visible even after days.

So, when the seventh day rolled around after that one mission, Nero didn’t think that it would be any different than the others. He yawned loudly as he stretched himself like a cat, stretching his arms over his head and feeling his joints pop satisfyingly. The bright sunlight shining through his window the sole reason he’d woken up in the first place. He let himself doze off for a moment or two more before his grumbling stomach made him finally get up. He sat up, throwing his legs over the edge of his bed and rubbing his eyes sleepily. He didn’t need his bandages anymore, where there once was a deep hole his skin was now fully healed again, leaving only a light scar that would too disappear eventually. He grabbed a shirt he’d haphazardly thrown on the floor the day before, taking a short sniff before he deemed it fine enough to put on.

The clock on the wall of his room that Nero had bought somewhen, told him that it was only quarter past nine. Dante was probably still fast asleep, it was rare for the other hunter to get up before ten. 

He shuffled towards the staircase contemplating what he should make for breakfast when a voice cut through his thoughts.

“Get ready kid, we got a mission!”

To his surprise, Dante was already up and about, fully dressed in his usual attire of a tight, black shirt, his red leather pants and coat. Rebellion perked up over his back and Ebony and Ivory were holstered neatly by his sides. He sat on his desk with a magazine in one hand as if he’d just waited for Nero to emerge from his room.

Brows furrowing at Dante’s eagerness and energy that early in the morning, he tilted his head in confusion. “What mission?”, he asked as he made his way down the last steps, obviously not the reaction Dante had hoped for.

“Some rich folks having a little demon infestation. Lady called that we should check it out.”

“And since when does that catch your interest?”, he asked as he made his way past the other man into the kitchen to at least grab himself a snack before they’d leave.

“Since Lady’s still her money leeching self and there hasn’t been any mission for days! Now, hurry up and move your ass, kid!”, he called after him impatiently.

Now that simply wasn’t true. There’d been plenty of calls during Nero’s recovering period but Dante seemed way more interested in molesting the younger slayer than in taking any new jobs. He’d only left for one mission or two and only because Lady had promised bloody murder if Dante didn’t get his ass in gear.

He heard the main doors be thrown shut as he shuffled back out of the kitchen to see Dante already gone. Annoyed and confused, Nero hurried back up the stairs while taking a bite from the apple he’d grabbed from the kitchen. He made quick process in getting dressed, grabbing his own weapons and securing them in their usual places. Dante hadn’t even allowed him to leave the shop the last few days. Does that mean the older man deemed him well enough to go on missions again? Does that mean that… 

The sudden thought made him pick up his pace as he hurriedly jumped into his boots, taking a few last bites from the apple before discarding it in the trash can. He practically ran back down again, jumping down the stairs, barely noting that there was no sharp stab in his chest on the impact. He threw open the wooden double doors to Dante already sitting on his bike waiting for him. 

“Hop on, kid, we gotta hurry.” he said, revving the engine of his bike.

Nero just had the mind to close the front door before doing exactly as Dante said and threw his right leg over the seat behind the older slayer. He’d just slung his arms around the taller man’s torso and placed his feet on the footrests when the bike suddenly accelerated, turning in a half circle with squeaking and smoking tires before racing down the street. He pressed himself closely to the strong back, careful not to cut himself of the sharp blade of Rebellion and looked over Dante’s left shoulder to see where they were going. 

They drove for almost an hour, rushing past shops and terrace houses into a more rural area outside of Capulet city. Nero watched fields and smaller villages rush by, the sky speckled with thick, dark clouds creating a stark contrast to the sunbeams shining through small gaps. The air filled with the smell of rain, even though there was yet to come a single drop. When trees began to obscure his view, he concentrated on the road ahead. The loud roar from the motor echoed through the small forest they raced through. Dante suddenly made a turn onto a small driveway, following it up a small hill deeper into the forest until they came to a large, ornamented black metal gate. Lucky for them, it was left open so they hadn’t a problem driving further up to the large, white house which looked like a holiday lodge. Just past the house and behind some pines Nero could see what must be a lake, the sunlight reflecting off the surface in bright sparkles.

They came to a stop right before the large entrance with double doors left open and black car tracks on the grey asphalt of the driveway. His right arm began to glow brighter as they neared the house, indication the presence of another demon or demons. He climbed off the bike as Dante cut the engine, looking around for any indication of what kind of demon was waiting for them. He didn’t want to end up like last time. Before he could ask what their plan was though, Dante strode forward with his coat flapping behind him straight through the entrance. 

“Wait..!”, the younger hunter exclaimed as he hurried behind him. 

“Don’t worry, kid, this will be a walk in the park!” he said before Nero could ask, drawing both of his pistols. He stopped in the center of the entrance hall, listening closely to his surroundings. Strange yowl-like noises came from somewhere to their right and Dante didn’t hesitate before following them. It looked like he knew exactly what was going on. Nero drew his own revolver just in case as he followed the older man further into the house. They walked past a huge dining room with a chandelier, past an equally huge kitchen on their way to wherever the strange noises came from. Nero knew those sounds but couldn’t place them yet.

Dante stopped abruptly before a white double door, the noises clearly coming from behind. Without further ado, he kicked the doors open, revealing a sea of black and purple glowing creatures with glowing, red eyes, all trained onto them. Shadows. Those were shadows. Too many to count cramped into a room that served as another lounge from the look of it. Nero only had the time to mouth _what the fuck_ before the black masses hissed and growled at them. Dante began to shoot into the black sea, knowing fair well that they first had to get rid of the outer black mass before they could really hurt those beasts.

Nero raised Blue Rose and began to shoot, both of them backing away into the hallway as the cat-shaped creatures attacked. Lucky for them only a few shadows made it out of the room at a time as they were bottlenecked by the doorway, making it easy for both slayers to shoot them one at a time. Still, soon enough there were enough running at them to get problematic. Nero replaced Blue Rose with Red Queen, revving her up before dashing forward with a roar. He slashed through the first row of Shadows whose black coat had been destroyed, finishing them off with his smoldering blade. They burst into black smoke and glowing sparks as Nero slashed his way through the masses. Dante kept on shooting the ones still swathed in black fog without hitting the younger slayer in the process.

“That’s it, kid! Show me what you’ve got!”, he heard Dante behind him, his smirk clear in his tone. He felt adrenaline rush through his veins, the exhilarating feeling to be able to move again without feeling a sharp pain with every blow he dealt. He grabbed one Shadow with his Devil Bringer and flung it around into another group. Following the stunned bulk, he propelled through them with Red Queen spinning, slicing through hard, dark matter. When he landed back on his feet, looking up he saw Rebellion fly past him, almost grazing his cheek as it impaled another pouncing Shadow somewhere behind him to the nearest wall, successfully killing it. 

“Looks like the break didn’t do you any good, aye, kid? Almost got hit there.”, Dante winked as he grabbed his beloved pistols once more and started shooting the few remaining cat-shaped demons. 

“Well, someone has to do the dirty work, right?”, Nero taunted, throwing Dante's words from last time back at him. With another shout he forwent Red Queen and instead started pummeling the last few demons with his fists alone. He grabbed the last one by its head and shoulders before ripping it in half with a roar, it’s halfs dissolving into dust in his hands.

Panting, he looked around for more, but couldn't find any. The hallway ways tainted with black splotches from the demons blood, cut walls and broken doors not the only property damage from the fight. The entrance hall they were standing in was a complete mess of broken furniture and cracked tiles. Part of the staircases handrail leading upstairs had been destroyed, some steps even broken.

“Why were there so many of them?”, Nero asked baffled.

“Mass breeding, I s’pose. Don’t think they liked it when we interrupted, though.” Dante answered with a chuckle, grabbing Rebellion where it was still stuck in the wall.

“Urgh.” Nero shuddered, not wanting to think of having stepped into a demon orgy. He picked up Red Rose again and holstered her to his back before turning back to Dante.

“So, that was it?”

“Depends on you, kid.” Dark eyes stared him down, a mischievous smile playing on the older man’s lips. Nero’s heart gave a loud thud as he thought about the implication.

“You ready, _Nero?_ ” Hearing his name rumble in that deep voice had his body thrum in excitement.


	5. Chapter 5

“You sure you don’t need a break first, _Dante?_ ”, Nero mocked, smirking broadly.

Instead of answering, Dante huffed a quiet laugh before dashing forward to the younger slayer. Nero had just enough time to block a heavy blow from his right with his Devil Bringer before being grabbed by Dante's other hand and thrown around into the main lounge. His fall was damped by the soft and probably extremely expensive sofa as he skidded with it a few feet further into the room. Tipping on the very edge with the couch, he pushed himself forward, the couch falling back onto the floor with a loud thud. Unimpressed, the younger looked up to Dante before faking a yawn, leaning with his elbows on his knees.

“And you want to impress my demon? You sure ‘bout that?”

“I’ll make your devil cry out for me, kid!” Dante smirked.

Before Nero could roll his eyes at the pun, he had to dodge a heavy leathern armchair. Jumping upwards, he saw the massive piece of furniture barely miss him. Rolling midair, he crashed back down, fully intending to kick Dante in the face like the first time they’d met. What he didn’t expect though was being grabbed by his legs and thrown around through the nearest wall, landing on the bed of the guest room behind it.

“Fuck..!” he groaned. Dante really wasn’t fucking around this time. But two could play the game. 

“You already gettin’ ready for me, Nero?” Dante called amused as he came through the hole that the younger slayed had left behind.

“You wish!” Gritting his teeth, the ex-knight pushed himself up. He grabbed the small nightstand beside the bed and threw it at Dante, who easily dodged it. Charging back at the man, Nero expected the hand that tried to grab him this time and instead ducked under, punching the older slayer into his stomach with all his strength. Dante flew through the nearest door into what looked like the adjoining bathroom. Quickly following, he was ready to punch the other man into the ground. As he rounded the corner though his face was sprayed with water, making him back up for a second.

“What the hell…!”, he exclaimed as he shielded his head from the cold spray.

“Bad boy, did no one tell you to respect your elders?” Dante grinned with a fucking showerhead in his hand from the shower.

Grabbing the offending appendage out of the older man’s hand, he tugged at the metal cord hard, making it rip out of the faucet causing water to flow out freely and slowly flood the bathroom. Throwing away the now useless tool, he prepared for another blow but his fist was caught in the hand of the other man. He tried to use his human fist for another punch, but that, too, was caught in the remaining hand. Clenching his teeth, he tried to push the other man away, but to no avail. Dante was definitely stronger than him in strength and he wasn’t surprised when he got pinned to the nearest wall.

“We could cut the chase and come straight to the main event, don’t you think?”, the older man purred into his ear, rolling his hips against the younger slayer, showing him his own arousal clearly noticeable even through the thick layer of his trousers. 

His breath hitched as he noticed the heady scent coming from the older man, filling his senses and making his mind go hazy. He was in no different state, though. He felt his own arousal grow by the second, but he didn’t want to make it too easy for the man. 

“I’m not that easy..!”, he snarled. With the wall behind his back, he pushed himself and therefore the other man off and away from it enough that he can free his demonic arm.

“If you say so…”, came the nonchalant answer as Dante forced him to block another heavy blow. He could just shield himself with his Devil Bringer but the force alone let him crash through the window out into the backyard. With another roll he landed on his feet. He dug his claws into the ground to slow down his movement, plowing through the green grass below him and leaving behind long, deep marks until he finally came to a stop. Instead of following him out through the window, Dante instead made a detour and casually opened the glass doors that lead from the lounge into the garden.

Nero straightened up as the older slayer slowly advanced. They circled each other, only a few feet separating them. Now that he knew what was going on, he wasn’t as surprised over the urge to make this fight as hard as possible for Dante, even though he could anticipate the outcome. He panted slightly, breathing in more of the strong scent, nostrils flaring at the beckoning aroma. If he concentrated, he could smell a softer, much sweeter tone below the musky scent of Dante; probably the one he himself produced. His senses tingled and he knew the longer the fight lasted, the more influenced he became by the musky scent. He didn’t want to use any of his weapons, something in him telling him that they shouldn’t be part of this. So he slowly pulled Blue Rose from her holster and threw her to the side, doing the same with Red Queen while still watching Dante closely. The other man huffed a laugh as he did the same, discarding Rebellion and both his pistols somewhere to the side, not really bothering where to. 

They circled each other some more, both of them waiting for the other to make the first move. A soft breeze rustled through the leaves of the surrounding trees, chirps from birds adding to the serene scene with the large lake and small, wooden dock in the background.

A sudden rush of energy let Nero dash forward again. Dante easily blocked the blow and the one after and the more experienced slayer jumped into the air to evade Nero’s kick. Growling in frustration, the impatient man followed short. Jumping after and grabbing Dante by the ankle, he pulled him back down. He spread his legs before tightening them around the older man’s waist, keeping him in place as his fists rained down onto the man’s face. They landed with a loud thud back onto the ground, the older slayer underneath him softening his own landing. One hand came up around his throat, cutting off his trachea as it tried to push him away. He clawed against it with his right arm drawing blood, trying to push it away. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Dante’s other first going for a punch, but he barely caught the man’s wrist with his other free hand. They struggled against each other, the younger man gasping for air as the hand around his throat was unrelenting. Just as he thought he might pass out, he’s being thrown to the side.

He rolled over the floor and landed on his back as he coughed roughly, trying to regain his breath. Dante was on him a moment later, landing a few punches before grabbing him by the front of his shirt and throwing him far away into the lake. With a splash he landed in the chilly water, swallowing him whole. The rushing sound of water was all he could hear as he flailed his arms. He could see the soft light of the sun glimmer through the surface and with a powerful thrust he made it to the top, drawing in much needed air into his oxygen deprived lungs. Shaking his head to clear the water from his vision, he spotted Dante lounging on one of the sunbeds in the sun, having magicked on a pair of dark sunglasses. His arms were folded behind his head completely carefree, his legs crossed at his ankles.

Fuck this old man. He grumbled to himself as he swam back to the shore, his drenched clothes weighting him down as he walked out of the cold water. He came to a halt just beside the older man, looking down at him but Dante didn’t even seem to notice him. Or didn’t care. Before he could snarl at the other man, Dante pulled down his shades to the side with a leer before winking up at the younger slayer.

“Playtime’s over, kid.”

The sunglasses were thrown to the side and suddenly Nero was hit in the face - hard. He barely had any time to react and block some of the other blows directed to him. He jumped back further to try and get some space between them but Dante was fast. Not a second later he was on the younger slayer again, grabbing both of his wrist and pinning him to the nearest tree. 

“Submit.” Dante growled in his face, his hot breath ghosting over his own lips. Snarling, Nero didn’t want to give up just yet. He struggled and even bit into the other man’s arm, drawing more blood in an attempt to get at least one arm free, but the older slayer had none of it. His world tilted as he was flung onto the ground, on his stomach with his hands pinned to his back and his head pressed sideways down onto the soft grass. A heavy weight on him told him that Dante had followed him down. Still struggling, even though the ex-knight knew he couldn’t get away this time, he growled at the other man. He felt Dante’s grip shift on his wrists, both now held down by only one hand while the other clamped onto the back of his neck.

“ _Submit!_ ”, the man growled again, louder this time.

His body went pliant, almost paralyzed as not a single ounce of energy was left. Panting heavily, he closed his eyes.

“That’s cheating…”, Nero complained weakly as his lungs were filled with a familiar aroma, now a thousand times more potent. The body above him only pressed closer, Dante probably lying all the way onto the younger slayer but without letting go of his wrists.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me, kid…” Dante asked huskily, his breath ghosting over his ear. The hand on his neck lifting as he felt a nose run along the side of his neck, taking in a deep breath. Something hot began to stir in his lower regions. Pure, undulated arousal coursing through him as the older slayer nipped the sensitive skin of his ear.

“You didn’t make it easy for me, did you. Running around in only your shorts with your perky little ass on display through the thin material back at the shop. And when you came downstairs that one morning smelling of…”, he trailed of.

“So what’re you gonna do ‘bout it? Punish me?”, the younger slayer challenged with a smirk on his face though he couldn’t really see much of Dante from his position. He felt the low rumble on his back as Dante laughed above him.

“I thought more about fuckin’ you into the ground until you can’t think straight anymore.”, he purred into his ear, making Nero gasp. The heady scent hit him full force, making his mind hazy and his arousal amplify. 

“Then how about less talking, more fucking.” Nero rasped out.

He was spun around so fast that he couldn’t decide what was going on before a demanding mouth was pressed harshly against his own. He moaned against it, using his now freed hands to pull the other man closer by his neck. His still wet clothes made them cling uncomfortably to his skin, but he was sure that they’d change something about that pretty soon. 

Nero greeted the invading tongue with his own, whimpering softly as sharp teeth nibbled at his lower lip. Deft hands tucked at his wet clothes, making quick work on his belts and zippers. Finding the prospect of naked skin on skin a great idea, Nero also started clawing at the red coat until it slid from the older man‘s shoulders. He threw his head back with a guttural moan as a muscular thigh was harshly pressed against his crotch. He felt Dante's mouth against his throat accompanied by soft, hot puffs, trailing lower and lower, only stopping because of Nero‘s hoodie still in the way. Fingers found its zipper and was pulled down roughly in one go, pushing the sides away to reveal milky, water-slick skin. Calloused hands started roaming over his now bare torso, briefly brushing over his nipples before gliding down with intend. Nero pushed his right hand through the silky strands of the older man currently lavishing on his collarbone; kissing, licking and nipping at the sensitive skin. Large hands roamed over his hips, squeezing briefly before making quick work of his already open pants and pulling them down along with his boxer shorts and boots. The cold air hitting his straining erection made him gasp in surprise, eyes flying open as he looked down at the older man. As their eyes met, he could see that Dante‘s eyes were rimmed dangerously red, telling him that his devil side was simmering right below the surface. His pupils were blown wide, making their usual icy color look dark with hunger.

Dante couldn’t keep his mouth to himself though and soon sunk his teeth into the skin on his inner thigh. Nero screamed, the bite causing both pain and pleasure to rush through his veins as he clawed with his fingers and talons over the earthy ground. He arched his back, a chilling breeze rushing over his exposed, wet skin. His mind felt like it’s been stuffed full of cotton, making everything that wasn’t in their little bubble sound and feel far, far away. Strong hands on his thighs pushed his legs further apart, leaving him exposed to whatever Dante had in store for him. A low, appreciating rumble echoed from the man above him, almost like a purr, as he felt an answering purr-like sound leave his own throat. A wet, hot tongue trailed from the bottom of his very erect member to the sensitive tip. Lips closed around the silky skin, sucking hard on the crown and making Nero’s hips buck up with a surprised yelp transforming into a prolonged moan. 

It was a foreign sensation but definitely one that he wanted to experience more often in the future. He bit his lip as he felt the wet heat envelop more of him. The younger slayer could feel Dante‘s tongue on the underside of his cock, slowly sliding up and down the silky flesh, sending more and more sparks of pleasure through him. Soft stubble brushed against the surrounding skin as Dante engulfed his whole member into his mouth and throat. He didn‘t know when he had closed his eyes, but it only seemed to intensify the experience. To think of _Dante_ doing this to him, making him fall apart completely out in the open. Strong hands softly stroking his inner thighs made their way further to his crotch. As soon as Dante started bobbing his head, his mouth leaving behind a spit slick trail that only felt more intense with the cold, surrounding air before being swallowed in down one go, he felt what he believes is Dante thumb at his entrance. The curious digit circled around it first before pressing ever so slightly over the tight opening. Nero‘s hips bucked up on their own accord but the same strong hands kept them securely pinned to ground. He threw his head from one side to the other, already too overwhelmed with what‘s going on. His hot skin was tingling, everything felt so much more intense the more he breathed in the heady aroma. 

„Dante…!“, he moaned, not knowing what he actually asked for. He felt the rumble coming from the other man against his member still buried into the tight heat, adding a soft vibration to the older man's ministrations. Suddenly, everything was gone. The tight heat around his cock, the demanding finger at his entrance and the calloused hands in his lips. He opened his eyes to ask what the fuck Dante thought he was doing, but he could only open his mouth before he was flung around back onto his stomach. His coat and hoodie were ripped from his body, leaving him now completely bare. Another breeze tickled against his flushed skin making him shudder, the wet film of water now mixed with his own sweat. Cold grass from underneath him tickled against his face and arms. 

Demanding hands grabbed him by his hips again almost bruisingly tight and making him gasp, before pulling them up so he was kneeling down with his bottom perched high. The hands shifted slightly so they were now placed onto each of his buttcheeks, spreading him wide open. Nero looked over his shoulder to see Dante kneel behind him, looking like he was about to devour him whole, his mouth slightly opened and panting. Still, he‘d only lost his red coat yet, leaving him otherwise completely dressed. 

„You have no idea how hard it is for me not to lose control right now, Nero...“ The man rasped before leaning down and licking over his entrance in a long, dragged out swipe, pulling his cheeks to the side for better access. 

„Ahhh…!“ Nero moaned, squeezing his eyes shut tight and arching his back further. „Fuck….!“

„Soon.“ Dante chuckled, hot puffs blowing against his quivering hole. He continued his torture some more, licking in long, wet stripes over the sensitive area with strong hands keeping him from shying away. Nero thought he‘d go insane, clawing against the ground while moaning loudly. He‘d never felt something like this before, never in that place anyways. He had a vague idea of how sex with another man worked — really, there wasn‘t much choice now was there, but it wasn‘t as if it had been openly discussed back in Fortuna — but it‘s completely different from how he‘d imagined it the last few days. Better. _Ways_ better. Suddenly the wet muscle was gone, leaving him gasping for air. It wasn‘t long though before something else was pressed against his hole, something wet and thick but definitely not the man's tongue. Another hand came back to rest on his hip, massaging his tense muscles softly. 

„You gotta relax, kid…“ Dante told him in a low tone. He wondered if it would always be this low during sex or if it‘s because of his devil side so close under his skin.

Nero pressed his face against one arm as he took long, slow breaths to try and relax. The thing pressed against his entrance waited patiently, only circling around it or sliding over, making it even wetter. Soon though as Nero had relaxed some more, it pressed on with intent. On the third try it breached the tight ring of muscles, working its way even deeper into him in slow thrusts. It was long and thick and as knuckles brushed against his skin and testicles, he concluded it was one of Dante's fingers. The man draped himself over Nero‘s back, pressing closely as he littered his shoulder and neck with kisses and sharp nips. Dante's clothes felt cold against his hot, flushed skin. The digit inside of him felt weird and foreign and Nero couldn‘t decide if he liked it or not. The hand previously on his hip found its way between his hips to his neglected cock, tugging repeatedly on the sensitive member and making his arousal flare back up in one go. He moaned loudly against his arm with every few tugs, leaning his head further to the side to grant the other man better access for his ministrations on his neck.

Soon enough, another digit found its way into him, stretching him wide while Dante continued to mark him up. A sharp bite on his shoulder and the digits suddenly curling, hitting a specific spot inside of him made him howl out in pleasure. They kept on teasing and prodding the spot, unrelenting while thrusting in and out. Nero hadn‘t even realized that a third one had joined before they were being pulled back out again. He felt like his hole was gaping obscenely, tightening and relaxing the muscles around experimentally. The ex-knight felt empty now and something inside him demanded to be filled this instance. Nero felt Dante move against him, leaning back up a bit. The leash of the man's belt brushed briefly against the back of his thigh and shortly after heard a zipper being pulled down, making him shiver in anticipation.

„Hurry…!“ Nero growled impatiently, pushing himself back slightly. His whole body felt like it was burning from the inside and the only relief was if Dante touched him. 

„On your back.“, the man behind him demanded with a growl.

The younger slayer practically threw himself to the side, rolling onto his back and looking up at the older man. He saw Dante hold his impressive member in one hand while slowly stroking it. He still had his trousers on, only pushed down slightly for his freed member, but his shirt was gone by now, leaving his strong, muscular chest for Nero to appreciate. His other hand grabbed him by his hips and pulled him closer, Nero‘s legs spreading wide before lightly closing around the other man's waist. His hips were tilted up by Dante‘s own thighs underneath him, propping him up into a favorable position. Before Nero could think — or even attempt to — about what step came next, he felt the blunt head of Dante‘s cock pushing against his entrance, demanding access. Nero’s hands came up out of instinct, pressing against Dante‘s chest and thigh but without actually pushing. Soon enough the insistent head pushed past the tight ring of muscles, making both men moan. But Dante pressed on, his thick cock burying itself deeper and deeper inside the younger slayer who’d thrown his head back with another moan. 

With shallow thrusts Dante went deeper and deeper, making Nero wonder how much more there could be. Finally, he felt the older man‘s hips pressed flush against his bare skin. He felt Dante shift and lower himself over the younger man and pressing his mouth against the others in a heated kiss. Their tongues danced and slid against each other as Dante slowly started to move. The dragging sensation inside him feeling even weirder than the fingers, but as Dante picked up his pace it was replace with pure pleasure. 

With every strong thrust, another wave crushed through him, making him moan into the mouth pressed against his own. His arms slung themselves around Dante‘s neck, dragging him in impossibly closer. He felt his claws cut into the skin of the man‘s shoulder and back. His other hand wound itself into the silver locks, gripping tightly as he‘s being fucked roughly. His legs were clamped around the other man to keep himself from skidding away as he was pounded into the ground. But it still wasn‘t enough.

„Harder…!“ Nero demanded, biting on the other man‘s lower lip hard enough to draw blood. He got a warning growl as an answer but the man‘s thrusts picked up in speed, causing loud, wet sounds to echo from where their skin met with each brutal thrust. His back arched from the ground as Dante shifted his hips just enough to hit that special spot inside of him, nailing it each time. He couldn‘t think anymore, any clear thought thrown out the window. The only thing left was the raw need to get the other man closer, to be fucked harder. His mind swam in pure ecstasy. His right arm began to pulse in the rhythm of their thrusts, glowing so bright that he could see a hint of blue behind his shut eyes. At some point he couldn‘t even hear his own moans anymore with the blood rushing loudly through his ears. 

His world tilted once more as he was being pushed onto his stomach again. The short period of emptiness quickly replaced with the now familiar cock continuing its punishing pace. His hips were held up by a bruising grip that would make any normal human cry out in pain but only added to the pleasure rushing through his body. His knees barely grazed the ground as he was held up and pulled back with every snap of Dante‘s hips. He grabbed hands full of grass to hold himself steady and Nero knew that words left his mouth, but he couldn‘t decide if they were demanding for more or screaming the older man‘s name. A coiling heat began to grow in his lower regions, spreading fast and strong.

The thrust became impossible faster and harder, shaking his whole body as he felt thick fingers digging into the skin of his hips turn into something sharper and cutting through the soft flesh. Dante came back flush against the younger slayers back, his chest still feeling human. It all became to much. The heat inside him was growing hotter and hotter, his throat burned from his continuous sounds of pleasure. Nero thought he might break any second when he heard another growl from the other man as clear as ever, rumbling into his ear.

„ _Mine._ “

A strong jar clamped around the flesh where his shoulder and neck met, clearly cutting through skin but instead of feeling pain, it was the last thing that he needed that tipped him over the edge. He screamed once more, forcing the last bit of air left out of his lungs. The younger slayer was roughly pushed further into the ground, a heavy weight pressing him down but he didn't care. He felt the other man’s member twitch inside of him as he was filled with the other man’s hot seed.

He felt boneless, felt like he was floating on a cloud. Felt better than he’d ever in his life. Nothing could ruin this moment. He let himself lay on the ground, not caring about anything. Concentrating on the tingling sensation all over his body. It was perfect.

„C‘mon kid, I know I‘m the best but you‘re starting to worry me.“ A smug voice came from somewhere behind him. With a sigh, Nero lifted one hand and pointed his middle finger in the general direction of the voice. It only made the other man chuckle.

Nero noticed that he was laying on his left side now with a warm body pressed close behind him. The other man was littering his sore shoulder with soft kisses, lapping at the tender bite mark he‘d left behind. The younger slayer groaned at the feeling but instead of pulling away, he tilted his head further to the side, enjoying the slight, stinging pain emanating from the wound. He kept his eyes closed as he let the other man do his thing. Enjoying the brush of soft lips, concentrating on the hand further down on his hip gently massaging his bruised hip. Nero lifted his right arm around so he could fit his clawed hand into the mop of silky, silver hair. 

People probably thought that his right arm was void of sensation, that he couldn‘t feel anything through the thick hide or sharp talons. It‘s true that when in battle, he could easily protect himself with his Devil Bringer or rip through tough matter without feeling anything resembling pain. But in truth, it was as sensitive as his human arm was, especially the blue glowing skin. The sharp fingertips were exactly as sensitive as normal fingertips. He didn‘t know exactly how it worked, if any sensation was simply numbed with the help of his devil‘s power when in battle; but right now he didn‘t care. He simply concentrated on the silky touch of the strands against his usually deadly talons as he massaged the scalp of the man that didn‘t flinch away at the sight of his Devil Bringer. 

As he felt soft lips on his still hot and flushed cheek, he turned his head to capture the mouth with his own. The kiss was unhurried, at first simply pressing against each other until hot tongues found each other again; dancing to a slow rhythm. He felt his heart rate pick up as he thought about the other man behind him who was currently touching him so intimately. 

Nero wouldn‘t have known what to do once he‘d been thrown out of Fortuna, weren‘t it for Dante. Who‘d turned his world upside down more than once. The ex-knight now knew that it probably would have been inevitable for him to leave, with or without the events being the catalyst. They wouldn‘t have accepted him. Not like in the dream when he’d been under the influence of that demon. The Order might‘ve tolerated him but only for his ability in combat. But then he‘d still have to live with the judging stares of the other citizens of Fortuna. It wouldn‘t have worked. It _hadn‘t_ worked. He‘d been treated like shit even before everything.

He gasped as a strong hand pulled his thigh higher, angling his leg so the hand could stroke up and down the sensitive skin on the inner side. He felt his own member twitch at the delicate ministrations, already half hard again. Dante‘s hips thrust lightly against his own, his own member in a similar state as Nero‘s. Dante shifted slightly so his cock was now gliding between his cheeks, the drag smoothed by the wetness still there. 

Nero knew he could trust this man, the position they‘re in only one proof. He nibbled softly at the other man‘s lip as he opened his eyes, being met with icy blue orbs. There were so many emotions written on the man’s face, half of them that Nero didn’t dare to even think about as his heart gave another loud thud in his chest. They kept their eyes locked as Dante gave a few more lazy thrust before angling himself up and sinking back into Nero‘s still loose heat. They both gasped at the intrusion, Nero‘s eyes falling back shut as Dante‘s cock bottomed out in only one, long thrust. They stayed like this for a few more moments as lips found each other again in languid, soft touches. Panting slightly, Nero tightened his grip around the soft strands in his hand but not nearly as rough as their first round. Dante‘s hips finally began to move in long, slow thrusts. The hand still holding up his thigh curled around his leg, making it fold onto itself as his knee was pressed against his chest. The hand reached for his right nipple making a soft moan escape his lips but was promptly swallowed by the demanding mouth working on his own. Swift fingers twirled the hard nob between them, pulling lightly before circling the sensitive spot with their tips.

Dante‘s thrust became a bit faster, his hips pushing even closer to his and causing his cock to go even deeper. Nero let out another soft moan, letting his head fall onto his arm on the ground. Soon the hot mouth was back to sucking, licking and nibbling on his shoulder and neck while Nero's hand stroked over the back of the older man‘s neck, feeling Dante’s rapid pulse against his wrist. He felt the familiar heat rise again in his lower region telling him he was close again. Dante's hand continued to fondle his one nipple some more before the broad palm roamed over his upper body. The hot skin felt like it was scorching the younger slayer wherever it touched him next. As it wandered lower and lower Nero held his breath until the scorching heat enclosed around his hard cock. With a sudden huff Nero released his breath into a long moan. The hand started pumping up and down in the same rhythm as Dante‘s thrust, making his own hips push into the tight heat and back against the snap of Dante‘s hips. It felt overwhelming and as intense as their first round but in a whole unique way. It felt more like _making love_ , making the younger slayer blush at the thought. 

He gasped as his own orgasm took him by surprise, hot liquid spurting out of his cock as he clenched around the hard member inside of him. Dante moaned his name loudly against his shoulder, his rhythm faltering for the last few thrust until he too was coming, their hips pressed flush as the older man emptied himself inside Nero a second time. They stayed that way for a few more moments, enjoying the renewed after-glow. Eventually, Dante released Nero‘s leg in favor of throwing his arm around the younger man and pressing Nero close against himself. Instead of pulling out immediately though, he kept their hips pressed close even as Nero could feel the other man grow soft inside of him. Dante snuggled even closer, nosing at the back of neck and placing soft little kisses there as Nero kept on stroking through the soft strands. He kept his eyes shut, simply enjoying the warm, tingling feeling throughout his body while his breathing calmed down.

Cold drops on his skin made him twitch in surprise, the smell of rain suddenly registering in his senses. Grumblingly he looked up into the sky, the part that wasn‘t covered by large treetops and grumbled even more as one fat drop landed right between his eyes. Struggling lightly in the hold of the man behind him who seemed to have dozen off, he tried to remove himself out of the strong hold.

„Dante, let me go…! It‘s started raining!“, he complained as the arm around him didn‘t relent.

With a long sigh, Dante‘s grip on him suddenly went loose so that Nero could at least shuffle forward a bit, causing Dante‘s now flaccid cock to glide out and making both of them gasp. Nero wrinkled his nose at the feeling of something warm tickling out of his hole. That wasn‘t something he was ever getting used to. Sitting up, he hissed in pain. Not only did his ass hurt like hell, but taking quick stock of his body he saw several cuts, bruises and bitemarks all over himself. Deep, dark prints started to show on his hips in the form of handprints, at the very tips small, bloody holes were already crusted over. 

„Fuck, did you trigger?“ Nero asked with furrowed brows as he looked back at the older man.

Dante laid on his back and had just tightened his trousers back up as he looked up at Nero.

„Well, only partly, but close to it. Told you it‘d be rough.“, he answered with a wink. „But I didn‘t hurt you seriously, did I?“, he asked more worried, all traces of humor gone for the moment as he looked the younger slayer over himself.

„Nah, don‘t let it get to your head, old man.“ He stretched his arms over his head with a groan, letting his joints pop with a satisfying sound. He heard Dante move behind him, when muscular arms sneaked themselves around his middle and he was pressed back against a strong chest.

„It wasn‘t me who was completely gone for five minutes after the first round.“, a husky voice purred into his ear.

„Well, that‘s because I didn‘t want to deal with your shit just then!“ He threw his sharp elbow back, connecting with the body behind him. Pulling out of the strong embrace, he started collecting his clothes strewn around seemingly everywhere. Rain began to pour onto them in a steady stream now. 

They helped each other find their things; Nero‘s attire still dripping with water from his short, involuntary swim in the lake. Lastly, they holstered their weapons. With another last look around, Nero turned back to the older man who was looking at him with a fond smile on his face.

„Don‘t get sentimental on me now, old man.“ Nero grumbled with a blush as he made his way towards the house.

Instead of answering, Dante huffed a quiet laugh as he fell into step with the younger slayer, putting an arm around his back as they went to get back home.

Their home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! Please be so kind and leave a like or comment, it fuels my creativity and motivation!


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